The Bottom of the Well
by smileaway96
Summary: Consumed by power and mad with rage . . . that's how I met my death. However, my death wasn't the end . . . it was only the beginning of something new, something terrifying. I was assigned to guard the truth, and nothing more. Do not attempt thievery . . . you'll have to pry it from my cold, dead, infinite hands.
1. I'm No Hero

**A/N: Welp, it's that time of year again! This is my first real attempt at something that might be close to the horror genre. Also, there are scenes in here that will be intense and slightly gruesome, so if you're not into that kind of stuff, then I'd advise you to read with caution, or steer clear of this story altogether. Thanks, all! **

* * *

Mugen found himself plummeting to the sandy ground after his brother had thrown his fist into his stomach. Doubled over, the man coughed, trying to regain his breath.

"Get up, you idiot," his brother, Shinda, hissed. "Get up and fight like a man."

Mugen shakily got to his feet and lunged for his brother. The two were locked in a battle of strength, shoving and kicking and slapping the other. When Shinda had his little brother in a headlock, he felt a tingling in his fingertips. Mugen glanced at his brother's hand and roared aloud.

"Shinda, don't you dare-!" he screamed, "Keep that witchcraft to yourself!"

"Never!"

Mugen felt something like tiny claws scratching at his face. He cringed at the sound of high-pitched screeching coming from his brother.

"This is for telling them!" Shinda yelled, throwing his brother to the ground. Mugen's body twitched slightly at first, then he writhed about, screaming in agony. He pleaded loudly for his brother to stop the pain, to let him go, but Shinda's eyes only flashed with insanity; a desire to kill.

"They know now," he cried, "You told them about my power!"

"I couldn't let you keep hurting people like that!" Mugen yelled through the pain, "You're not yourself anymore; look at you!"

Shinda gritted his teeth through his thin lips and gave another cry of effort. The dark magic that he emitted engulfed his brother, causing his skin to turn a deep blue color. When he realized it, the younger brother wailed.

"You're nothing but a monster!" he said between cries, "The magic transformed you into a terrible creature!"

"The goddesses must have wanted me to destroy everyone and everything," Shinda growled, his voice low, "That's why they cursed me with this damn power. And you're next!"

Mugen screamed one more time, and his body was overcome with one last shudder as the dark magic absorbed his blood and pulsed through his veins. Suddenly, his shouts of pain came to a stop and he shrunk to the ground, his body a shriveled mass of skin and bone. Shinda panted with his teeth bared. He gave a final cry of effort, but the power shrunk back inside of him before he could do anything else. With a sickening feeling settling in his stomach, Shinda stared at his dead brother.

"No . . ." he whispered, "No, no, no . . ."

Shinda stared at his hands and curled them into fists.

"Mugen," he uttered, "Mugen . . . what have I done?"

The man with auburn hair sank to his knees and began pounding the sand with his fists, sending small clouds of the sand into his face and eyes.

"No! No! No!" he shouted with every time he slammed his hands into the sand. When he'd calmed down, Shinda's body trembled with sobs. He looked at his brother one more time and fought back the urge to vomit. The younger man's body lay on the ground, still and thinner than it was initially. Shinda bellowed, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm a monster, I'm a monster," he sobbed, "I'm a sick killing machine . . ."

His world spun around; he grew dizzy.

Suddenly, voices came from behind him. Shinda barely heard them at first, until he snapped out of his grief and whirled around.

"There he is!"

Hylian soldiers. They appeared almost immediately all around him, pointing their spears and swords at the killer.

Shinda, with a glint of insanity once again appearing in his eyes, cried out and swung his arm around in a half-circle motion. The man's entire body became a dark blue as he began to flail around in the seizing hands of the Hylians.

"Hold him down!" one with a bushy mustache yelled as Shinda thrashed about, snarling like a wild animal. One of the soldiers brought a bottle containing some kind of red potion and two more forced open Shinda's mouth. Sensing the danger, Shinda struggled against the men and fought to keep away from the bottle.

"Keep his mouth open!" the soldiers yelled, attempting to keep holding him down.

Shinda murmured an incantation and his eyes flashed deep blue again. The soldiers reeled backward, knocked back by an invisible force. A smile crossed the killer's face.

"You'll pay for what you've done," he said, madness creeping its way into his voice, "You'll all pay!"

The soldiers lunged at him again, defending themselves from Shinda's attacks with the shields and countering them with their swords and spears. Shinda shot bolts from his hands, leaving behind trails of smoke as they struck the soldiers. The Hylians flew backward one by one, and many of them regained their balance to pile on to Shinda. The man cried out when they forced his mouth open again and held the small bottle over his mouth. Shinda growled, kicked, and screamed curses between his open jaws until he felt droplets of the liquid dripping down his throat. The Hylians let go of him while he choked on the drink, shuddered violently, and fell to the ground. When he was confirmed to be knocked-out, the captain of the Hylian guard shook his head.

"Pitiful creature," he muttered, "He even had the gall to murder his own blood relative."

The other soldiers picked up the man and threw him into the caged carriage where the prisoners of Hyrule were taken to the dungeon in.

"Take him to the Hyrule dungeon," the captain ordered, "And lock him up. We can't let this dangerous man terrorize anyone else. His days of dark magic are over."


	2. I am Death

Shinda slowly opened his reddened eyes. The dungeon smelled foul, like dead bodies, rats, and decaying waste. He wrinkled his nose as a first reaction, and sat up, only to feel an achy feeling take over his entire body. Sweat dripped down his forehead and soaked through his disgusting clothing. With a slight groan, Shinda leaned his head forward and took in deep, shaky breaths, trying not to gag at the stench that surrounded him.

Thoughts clouded his mind, each one becoming more confusing than the other. Where was he? What had he done?

"Well, good morning, sleeping beauty," came a voice from the other side of the bars that Shinda had only just noticed. The prisoner jumped when he heard it. The man on the other side chuckled. "We were hoping you wouldn't wake up." Bitterness overtook the man's voice.

"W-why would you wish that?" Shinda mumbled, still barely awake, "What have I done?"

"You were placed under arrest for ten murders," the soldier stated, "You've got quite a lot to think about, sunshine."

Shinda couldn't think. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't process the emotions that were going on in his head. He'd been given the power solely to destroy . . . to destroy anyone that got in his way.

"I had to," Shinda murmured, "It's . . . it's my job."

The soldier snorted.

"Only the goddesses have the power to destroy, you fool," he hissed, "you're no goddess."

"The goddesses gave me this power," Shinda explained, his voice becoming higher. "You have to release me so I can do what I was created to do."

"You've caused enough destruction already!" the soldier yelled, startling Shinda again. "For Farore's sake, you killed your own brother!"

Shinda gasped slightly at the thought. Mugen, his brother . . . dead? And what's worse, dead at his own hands? Mugen, the one he'd grown up with . . . the one who'd been so kind to before he discovered his power. And then, the little bastard had to go on and inform the entire town that he had the power.

"He deserved what he got," Shinda growled, his emotions nothing but a raging battle in his mind. Mugen didn't deserve to live after Shinda had placed his trust into him. There's no way he would have been able to trust him again. But his only brother . . . a human life, a human soul? One who was only trying to protect his big brother from harming himself or others?

And look at what he'd done.

Shinda stifled a half-sob, half-laugh.

"You're a sick-minded fool," the soldier growled, "We'll be sure you never see the light of day again."

"He died at my own hands," Shinda mumbled, "these weapons of mass destruction . . ."

He gazed at his hands, hating life, hating himself.

"They were only made to destroy . . ."

The soldier paid his prisoner no mind, snorting again and turning his attention to another cell, where another man was sleeping peacefully on the hard stone floor. It wasn't until the screeches started when the Hylian soldier whirled around and gaped at the man behind the bars. There, he only caught a glimpse of Shinda's forearms turning completely black, as though they had been thrust into a fire. The soldier jumped back in horror as he witnessed the prisoner's arms slowly changing color.

"Captain!" the soldier yelled weakly, "Captain!"

Shinda was overwhelmed with a horrible, numbing pain. The dark magic was slowly eating away at his flesh, gnawing painfully on the skin and the muscle inside. Shinda let out his pain through his throat in the form of a blood-curdling bellow.

The killer brought his eyes to the other side of the bars, where eight, or perhaps ten, soldiers were rattling the iron doors, finding in terror that they couldn't open it, even after they turned the key in the lock.

Shinda laughed. It was a bitter, painful sound that erupted from his lips, leaving only a second before his knees buckled and he collapsed to the stone floor. He fell to the mold-coated floor, overcome with an ill feeling. A loud crack came from the man's arms. He cried aloud, more startled by the sound than what was happening. Not wanting to find out, Shinda, turned his gaze away from his arms. The soldiers on the other side, however, watched as what was left of his arms became malformed points like single claws. Shinda let out one final scream of agony as his arms grew into long red points, the dark magic now attempting to heal what had been broken.

The soldiers outside of the cell yelled to each other, keeping their spears and bows at the ready in case Shinda attempted to escape. Finally, the cacophony came to an end as Shinda's body hit the ground with a hard "thud". His eyes remained open, and his face was frozen in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide.

The soldiers stood completely motionless for a few moments, all trying to process the horror they'd just witnessed. The captain and a few others remained as others ran clutching their mouths and stomachs in terror. The captain used his spear to prod the body through the bars to ensure that it was completely dead.

"Call the preservers," the captain shakily ordered one of his men after their analysis had concluded, "Something tells me that we shouldn't bury this man with the ordinary prisoners. We need to put his body somewhere else ; somewhere far away from here."

The soldier nodded and left the dungeon, shaken. The Hylian captain of the guard shook his head as he stared at the dead body in the cell, turning away as he spotted the man's pointed arms lying cold among the rest of the body. With a shudder, the man ordered a jail keeper to keep watch over the body in case something else should happen. He then went up the winding staircase, still haunted by a hazy fear.


	3. I'm Not Through

The team of preservers had wrapped up the body as quickly as possible, horrified by the gruesome claw-like appendages that had grown out of the man's elbows. As dusk fell, the body was left overnight in the place where the experts had worked on it. All was eerily quiet in the deserted shack, save for a few small gusts of wind that whistled through the windows.

As if a storm was brewing, the whistles of wind grew louder and suddenly more frequent. Even the cracks in the wood played the same lonely tune along with the windows. Pieces of trees and stones were blown into the sides of the house, creating a great cacophony. As noisy as it was, the noise seemed to keep a constant rhythm.

The few torches that kept the house illuminated were blown out, causing darkness to fall in the small hut. The body stayed put, only a few edges of the bandages flapped loosely in the wind. In a sudden burst of wind, the door flew open and slammed against the wall behind it, leaving a slight dent in the wood. Through the door came a shapeless mass of darkness, oozing around the sides of the door and slithering to the wooden floor. It found its way to the body and seeped into the bandages. The wind whispered again, resembling something that sounded like a hissing voice.

"Not through . . ." it whispered, "Not yet . . ."

A figure appeared in the door—a small, hovering figure that clutched a lantern.

"Shinda," the figure whispered, "You're the only one who can guard the truth."

There was no response from the body. The small floating figure chuckled and disappeared. He reappeared at the body's side and, in an instant, both he and the body had vanished.

* * *

The small figure appeared with the remains of the body underground, in a tunnel that led to a small door. Water dripped softly from the rotting ceiling, and all was eerily quiet. The Poe giggled mischievously and lifted the body using his own two stubby arms, proving a surprising strength for his size. He went through the door and brought the body with him, managing to move it through in the same way he had. When the Poe entered the small chamber with half of Shinda's body, he dropped it to the ground with a "thud" and touched the spot where the no-longer beating heart was contained.

"Shinda . . ." the Poe hissed, "I'll tell you what you must do."

Shinda's torso suddenly moved, eventually reaching a "sitting" position. The head hung loosely to one side, his mouth shut tightly. The Poe approached the body's face and touched it with his lantern.

"Hee hee hee . . ." the Poe giggled, "What a miserable sight you are."

The body didn't respond.

"I suppose I must rejuvenate you first," the Poe sighed. With a flick of his tiny wrist, the small ghost brought the head of the body up so that it was upright, and a wave of some invisible force seeped through the bandages. "I'll make you so fearsome, that your own family wouldn't be able to look you in the eye," the Poe mumbled, "No one shall take the truth from you. No one would dare."

As if it were being inflated like a balloon, the body's stomach began to expand. Shinda's legs sank into what appeared to be a murky ground, though the ground was completely solid. The face, through a series of cracks, started to elongate under the bandages. When he'd completed the molding of a new, terrifying creature, the Poe touched a finger to its chest and the creature's mouth opened, letting out a roar.

"Oh, oh, mustn't get too excited," the Poe scolded, "But, Shinda . . . you're alive once again."

The creature that once was Shinda, a man, stretched his jaws open with more snapping sounds. He opened as wide as he could, only to display two rows of massive teeth that protruded through the bandages.

"Eeheeheeheehee . . ." the small ghost giggled, pleased with himself. "The magic has served you and I well, Shinda," he said as the creature lumbered around confusedly. The ghost produced a small, circular looking-glass that looked like an eye. "I need you to guard this, Shinda," the Poe said, "it contains the dark magic that I used in life to find the truth—the very same dark magic that possessed you in life. The Lens of Truth. Now that I'm . . . heh . . . dead, I can no longer protect it as well as you can."

The creature let out deep groaning sounds and tilted its head to the side at a gruesome angle. The Poe merely laughed at the display, as though the creature was a confused dog.

"Of course, of course. You need something more threatening about you than just big teeth and two claws. But what else . . ."

The small ghost considered this for a moment, until he spun around, vanished for a second, and then reappeared holding four more bandaged appendages—human arms, possibly from other corpses in the twisting tunnels. The Poe planted the arms into the ground near the creature and tugged at the hands, stretching them to triple their original size.

"That's more like it," the Poe giggled, "You look absolutely terrifying now."

The Dead Hand creature looked up at the ceiling, revealing a long and bony neck. The Poe came close to its face and whispered one more time to the guard of the Lens of Truth.

"Your last gift as a magic-bearer like myself," the Poe said, placing the Lens of Truth into a chest and sealing it away, "Is the power to regenerate these limbs as much as possible. Keep the Lens safe from thieves, and destroy whoever tries to steal it from you. You'll be able to put your hands to good use once again, Shinda. Oh, and by the way . . ." The Poe tapped a rhythm on the stone wall with his tiny hands. "In life, they called me Bongo. But I suppose there's no point in mentioning that to you."

In a bout of continuous giggling, the Poe vanished once again and left the Dead Hand creature in the chamber, alone.


	4. I Am The Dead Hand

**A/N: Happy Halloween, everyone! Thanks for taking the time to read this story! (Reviews much appreciated!) :) **

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"Kana!"

The terrified yell came from a man who'd just woken up, finding himself underground in a damp and musty tunnel. Moss and mold coated the walls, leaving the smell of rotting vegetation to assault the man's nose. The man wrinkled up his face in response to the stench of the tunnel and tried hard to remember why he'd been thrown into the well. He could only recall a crowd of angry people, all demanding something . . . but what was it?

That's it . . . he and Kana had been thrown in for attempting to harness dark magic. What fools they were.

In attempt to ignore and forget his surroundings, the man called out for his friend again. When he heard no reply, he scrambled to his feet at the sound of a giant skulltula hissing and pinching its teeth together. Jumping back in alarm, the man instinctively reached into his pocket to pull out a long iron dagger spotted with stains of red. With it, he slashed the strands of the web and used it to defend himself from the giant spider. When he'd reached a decent distance away from the skulltula, the man wiped the bug's blood on his shirt and replaced the dagger. He opened his mouth again and cupped his hands around it, hoping he'd get some kind of reply from Kana.

"Kana, please answer me! Where are we?! It's me, Masu! Please, are you out there?"

His voice echoed on through the lonely tunnel. Feeling as if he had no other choice, Masu ran forward, only to find himself at a wall—a dead end. Putting his ear close to the wall, Masu listened closely to the sounds that oozed from them. It was definitely the sound of suffering—moaning, growling, and even slow and quiet footsteps.

"Kana?"

Masu curled his hands into fists and went to slam one on the wall in front of him, in a hopeless attempt to break it down. The first swing didn't hit the wall—in fact, it didn't hit anything. Masu's eyes widened in alarm as he felt his hand miss completely and he fell right through what appeared to be a wall. Looking back, the man reached out to the wall to test it again. His hand effortlessly slid right through.

Masu suddenly realized that he was in a completely different room. Startled upon seeing new surroundings, he stumbled into a clumsy standing position and looked all around him. He checked every wall in amazement to see if it was real or not. When he came across no false walls, the man tucked his torn shirt into his pants uncomfortably.

"Kana!" he called again, running through to another section of the maze-like tunnel. "Kana, I'm here! What happened? Where are we?"

Masu came across a closed door. The moaning sounds were most definitely coming from there, but there was something . . . inhuman about them. As if they weren't natural. Masu, with trembling fingers, reached for the rusted door handle. He pulled it open and whispered his friend's name again.

"Kana, is that you?"

In the room, there was a stream of greenish water flowing throughout the room. Masu stiffened once he realized that the small sticks that protruded from the surface weren't sticks at all—they were once-human hands, reaching out of the water only to find that they wouldn't be able to escape. He tore his eyes away from the hands and scanned the room once more. On the other side, there was a figure squatting on the ground, toying with its hands as if it had nothing better to do.

"K-kana?"

The figure suddenly stood up and moaned sorrowfully. Masu realized he'd made a horrible mistake when the figure got to its feet. It was a rotting body, covered with tight skin that looked as if it had been drained of its blood. It turned to look at Masu, who gasped in horror upon seeing the creature's face. The head consisted of three black holes, two where the eyes should have been, and one where the mouth was. The creature's mouth widened very slightly to let out a horrible scream. Slowly, the creature lumbered towards Masu, who screamed in reply and slammed the door shut as he ran out.

Masu's chest heaved in long breaths as he stopped at a thin tunnel with a single door at the end. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Kana . . ." he mumbled, every hope of finding his friend starting to dwindle. He'd probably die in this place anyway, what was the point of searching anymore?

_That's right . . ._ he recalled grimly, _The witch said that_ _Kana and I had to find the truth. Whatever that meant._

Limply, he tugged at the door handle and froze as he noticed four pillars completely upright, along with a single body in the middle of the room, mangled and bloody.

"Kana!" Masu realized as he ran to the body in the middle of the room. Kana's eyes were wide with terror; his face paralyzed with fear. Masu breathed heavily and quickly examined the wounds all over his friend's body. There were punctures in his legs, his chest, and his arms, and one wound, the

most mysterious one, appeared to be bloodied teeth marks surrounded by bruises on one shoulder.

"M-Masu . . ." the injured man breathed, "you have to get out. Out, do you hear me?!"

Kana choked up coughs as he raised his voice. Masu shook his head.

"What—I can't leave without you!" he protested, "Why?"

Kana shook his head frantically, his eyes still wide.

"Don't make me say it . . . again, Masu!" he cried, "Get out now, please! The truth can't be reached . . ."

Masu opened his mouth to speak, when Kana coughed again, a deep red trickling from his mouth and dripping to the ground. He then choked out one more plea.

"Leave . . ."

A single long breath left Kana's throat as his heart stopped pounding in his chest all together. Masu knelt next to his friend, trembling with fury as he watched Kana die. He let out a cry of despair, ripped the dagger from his pocket, and slashed angrily at one of the white pillars. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears started to sting them, not noticing the deep red that oozed out of the pillar from the place where he'd slashed it.

Masu gritted his teeth and buried his face in his hands, mourning the loss of his friend. The long and skinny structure that he'd slashed bent mid-way and snapped in doing so. Startled by the sound, Masu whirled around to see what he thought was a pillar to be bending towards him. Before he could react, five appendages at the end curled and cracked their knuckles, reaching for his face. Masu realized with a sick feeling that the pillar was a bloodied arm with sharp red claws at the hand. Paralyzed, Masu could do nothing but shake violently as the hand extended its fingers and suddenly seized his face.

Screaming, Masu clawed at the wrist of the arm in a futile attempt to remove the disembodied limb from his face. The claws dug into the skin, leaving droplets of blood to trickle down his face. Masu's screams were muffled by the palm of the cold hand over his mouth. No matter how he contorted his vocal cords to express his terror, he was still too quiet to be heard.

As he tried to get the hand away from him, Masu heard a deep growling behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut again and felt a sharp pain on his back, the sudden pressure throwing him forward. He hit the hard floor and stumbled backwards to see something hastily sinking into the solid ground. Trembling, he ran for the door and tugged at the handle.

It wouldn't budge.

Panicking, Masu pounded his fists against the door and screamed for help, hoping for the miracle that someone would be on the other side, listening, and would heed his cries. When nothing happened, Masu turned around to see his lifeless friend being pulled into the floor. His stomach twisted into a knot as he heard bones crunching as the body went down. When it was gone, there was nothing left of his friend but a pool of blood.

Masu doubled over, his stomach not holding itself steady. He collapsed to the ground and tried to regain some kind, any kind, of serenity. Or sanity.

"This isn't real," he tried to convince himself, "This isn't happening. I'm going to wake up any second. They gave me a sleeping potion. This isn't real . . ."

His peace and self-reassurance was interrupted by another hand reaching for him and grabbing the back of his head. He wrestled with it in every desperate attempt to remove it from his head. The man forced himself to turn around and face whatever had sunk into the ground before. His heart dropped to his feet and his stomach couldn't hold for any longer.

The creature behind him stood at over eight feet tall, its neck gruesomely extended and its eyes looking towards the ceiling. Two bloodied points were the creature's arms, and the body appeared to be a mass of loose flesh beneath stained bandages. The monster lowered its head to reveal two empty holes for eyes and a huge jaw.

Masu bent over again in seeing the creature and retched. The creature, as though showing some kind of mercy for one quick moment, tilted its head at nearly ninety degrees as Masu emptied his stomach. The monster bent all of its disembodied arms to reach for the man and hold him down once his vomiting had slowed. Masu gave a yell as all of the hands forced him to stay close to the ground and punctured his skin. The creature came closer, its mouth a gaping hole in front of him.

"No one steals the truth," came a voice from nowhere.

Masu's scream echoed through the tunnels as two rows of teeth snapped shut over his head.


End file.
